


Leaving Las Vegas

by Stacy LA Stronach (slashgirl)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-17
Updated: 2005-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashgirl/pseuds/Stacy%20LA%20Stronach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Gil's mother makes an appearance.I don't think they've mentioned her name on the show. I've called her Ginny; also, any conversations with her should assumed to be signed unless specified she's spoken aloud.</p><p>Originally published in 2005; written for fanfic100, prompt: why?</p>
    </blockquote>





	Leaving Las Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Gil's mother makes an appearance.I don't think they've mentioned her name on the show. I've called her Ginny; also, any conversations with her should assumed to be signed unless specified she's spoken aloud.
> 
> Originally published in 2005; written for fanfic100, prompt: why?

Warrick Brown didn't like it when weird shit happened. Getting a call from Conrad Ecklie an hour before his shift started was weird. And Warrick had a gut feeling it would be _bad_ weird shit.

"Yeah, Ecklie, what can I do for you?" he asked warily.

"I need you to come in for the night shift, I'm one short," Ecklie said tersely, obviously pissed off at something or someone.

"Sure, no problem. What's up?"

Ecklie snorted. "Your 'guru' has up and left. No call, just a letter of resignation. I never could understand Grissom," he said dismissively. "Anyway, Sophia will be the temp supervisor; and since Sidle got herself suspended for another DUI, night will be short handed. So, you're on night shift until further notice, Brown," he explained.

"Cool. I'll be there," Warrick said and hung up. He was still trying to process what he'd just heard. Grissom had left them? Had left CSI? Without telling any of them, without telling _him_?

Warrick flashed back on a conversation he'd had with Gil after he'd left Warrick in charge of the shift and all the shit had happened with Brass' daughter, Ellie.

"When I leave CSI there won't be any cake in the break room. I'll just be gone. So, I wanted to see if you could step in." A ghost indeed, thought Warrick, missing the older man already.

Standing in the middle of his living room, Warrick wasn't sure what to do. His thoughts were in confusion; Warrick went into the kitchen, restless, worried. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge, walked back to the living room, plopping down into the leather recliner. He couldn't believe this was happening.

A half hour later, Warrick was sitting in his SUV outside Gil's now for sale townhouse. It was obviously empty, no curtains or shades in the windows, making them darkened eyes mocking him for his foolish quest. Warrick felt as empty as the townhouse looked. It was as if something vital had been taken and might not ever return. He should have seen this coming, might have if it weren't for fucking Ecklie and his obsessive need to go after and punish Gris, including the break up of the night shift. Warrick slammed his hand against the steering wheel before putting the truck in gear and pulling away from the curb.

Looking at his watch, Warrick tried to decide what to do. It was still way to early to head into work. He could go pass some time at his old pastime. The Strip was whispering his name so very seductively; actually, the bitch was screaming at him. The pull of it, knowing it would help him blot out the pain of Gris' defection, of the leaving.

Warrick closed his eyes while his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He dropped his forehead to the top of the wheel, moaning. Trying to fight the need, the want, the pull of his demon, knowing to give in to it would be destructive but oh so welcoming. She'd welcome him with open arms, her caress wiping out his pain. "FUCK!" Warrick yelled, sitting up, putting the truck into gear, and peeling away from the curb. *I'm not giving in, not going to let this destroy me,* he kept repeating those thoughts as he turned the truck in the direction of the desert, away from the persuasive lure of the Strip.

Even though it was a typically hot Nevada day, Warrick shut off the air conditioning and opened the windows and the sun-roof of the truck, needing the physical embrace of the air as it flowed over and around him. Blasting the CD volume up on loud, he drove out of Las Vegas, hitting the speed when he was outside the city limits.

Not wanting to think about anything, Warrick let the music fill his mind, the sun and road fill his vision. He didn't want to consider just why Gil's leaving was hitting him so hard, why he'd felt such a strong pull back to gambling this afternoon, what it might all mean. He wanted to be empty, to not feel anything right now; that was so much safer.

After almost two hours of driving, he pulled the truck into a gas station &amp; convenience store. He pumped the truck full, then went inside, grabbing something to drink and a snack before paying for it all. When he got back in the truck he pulled away from the pump, stopping at the edge of the road; considering whether he needed to drive more or if he should head back to the city. Sighing, and looking at his watch, he decided to head back. Warrick didn't want to miss his shift tonight.

On the way back, he drove slowly, put on some nice light R &amp; B music and he let his thoughts have play. He wondered why Gil's leaving was hitting him so hard. But, deep down, he knew and allowed himself to admit it : he'd been falling in love with Gil. He'd always admired Gil, but it had only been since the night shift had been split up that Warrick had let himself consider anything more than friendship with Gil.

Warrick wondered if what had happened last weekend was what had caused Gil to cut and run. He knew that Gil seemed to have issues with intimacy but Warrick had hoped it could be different for them. He sighed, remembering how pleased Gil had been when Warrick had invited him out for dinner and a roller coaster.

********************  
Walking in the open door of Gil's office, Warrick dropped down in the chair facing the large desk. "Hey, Gris, what you up to later today?" It was Saturday and Warrick had been missing being around Gil so had decided to see if he wanted to catch some lunch or something.

Gil smiled, glad to see his friend, "I didn't have anything special planned. Why?" he asked.

"Just thought you might like to catch a bite to eat and then maybe go on that new roller coaster at Zimm's. What's it called, Shoot the Moon?"

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Gil asked, "You can get us in there? It's booked ahead for months!"

Pulling the two tickets out of his inside coat pocket, Warrick dropped them on the desk in front of his boss. "Looks like I got tickets, wouldn't you say?" he asked, grinning at the excitement on Gil's face. He was just like a little kid. "I have a cousin who works at Zimm's, she owed me a couple and I called in my markers," Warrick explained. "So, you wanna join me or do I give the tickets away?"

"I'll join you, don't worry about that. They're open now, right? Let's go!" Gil said, standing, grabbing the tickets in one hand, his coat in the other.

Warrick laughed, following his boss out of the office and the building.

The roller coaster had been a little more than Warrick was really comfortable with, but seeing the happiness and joy on Gil's face made it worth his while.

By the time they'd finished the ride it was early afternoon. "Where'd you want to go for lunch?" Warrick asked.

"Doesn't matter to me. Someplace with beer," Gil said. They walked out of Zimm's into the bright light of a Las Vegas day.

"What about Mack's Place? They've got good food and good beer," Warrick offered.

"Sounds great," Gil agreed.

Twenty minutes later, the two men were sitting opposite one another at one of the booths at Mack's Place. It was a medium sized restaurant that, by keeping the shutters drawn and the lights low, managed to keep an intimate but welcoming atmosphere. The seats of the booths were covered in royal blue leather and the table was made to look like cherry wood.

The waiter came over, reciting the days specials before setting menus in front of Warrick and Gil. They started talking (and now, Warrick couldn't remember everything they'd spoken of): they talked through their meal and for a while afterwards. It was close to four in the afternoon when they seemed to run out of things to say.

After they'd finished their meal, Gil had invited Warrick back to his place. They picked up a couple movies, beer and snack food.

They had just finished watching the second movie, and by then Gil had consumed a couple beers and was smiling warmly at Warrick. "Thanks for today," Gil said. "I had a great time, it's been too long since we've hung out," he finished.

Warrick clinked his bottle against Gil's before setting it back on the coffee table. "Hey, thanks for coming along. It has been too long...and I've missed you, Gil," Warrick said.

"I missed you, too, Warrick," Gil replied.

Then, something amazing and wonderful had happened. Gil set his bottle on the table next to Warrick's and leaned toward him. Warrick followed suit and somewhere in the middle their lips met in a chaste, gentle kiss. They pulled back enough to look at one another before Warrick captured Gil's mouth for another kiss. This time, they deepened the kiss, mouths opening, tongues sliding. Warrick slid his hand around Gil's waist to bring him closer.

Suddenly, Gil broke the embrace and stood up, walking into his kitchen. He turned and looked not at Warrick, but in his direction. "We can't--I can't do...this. I'm sorry, I can't."

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of air, Warrick calmed himself. After a moment he stood up and looked at Gil. "Why can't we?" he sounded confused. "You're not my supervisor anymore. Gil, please, talk to me," he pleaded.

"I just.... Warrick, please, we can't just--I need you to leave," Gil's voice had taken on what Warrick called his "scientist" tone which meant that nothing Warrick did or said would have any affect.

"Fine, I'll leave, but just so you know, Gil, this isn't over yet," Warrick replied, grabbing his coat and storming out of Gil's townhouse. Once outside, he started walking down the street, he'd call a cab once he'd calmed down a bit.

Sighing at the memories that were just over a week old, Warrick wondered if he was the reason, or at least one of the reasons Gil had run away from Las Vegas. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Gris before he'd taken off. Then again, he could just be egotistical and having a really bad case of wishful thinking.

*****   
Warrick arrived at work an hour early hoping that would give him enough time to talk to Catherine before she left for the day.

He found her in her office, working on her reports. "Hey, Cath, guess you heard about Grissom?" he said from the doorway.

She looked up and smiled. "Yeah, c'mon in and sit. I'm sorry to be losing you to night shift," she said.

"Yeah, well, I'll miss you and Nick, but I don't mind being back on nights," he said. "So, do you know anything more about what's up with Gris?"

Catherine snorted and raised her hand in the air. "I had no idea until Ecklie came in and told me. I guess I'm not really surprised--a bit pissed off because he didn't tell me or anyone else, apparently."

They spoke for a few minutes before Warrick left to go get ready for his shift.

It was a slow night for crime in Vegas tonight. Warrick stared at yet another piece of what seemed to be endless paperwork. They'd only had one call so far tonight and it was already halfway through the shift. Sophia had taken Greg with her on the call, leaving Warrick to catch up on some paperwork.

Paperwork was a bitch at the best of times and seeing how tonight didn't qualify for a "best of times" it was even bitchier. Warrick found his thoughts slipping, with a rather alarming frequency, back to Gil.

*Six weeks later*

Warrick hadn't applied for the night supervisor position. He probably could've gotten it, but his heart wasn't in it...wasn't in much right now. Until he found Gil, he knew he wasn't going to rest easily. He had to know, once and for all, that Gil felt nothing for him, that there was no hope for them. It'd been a month and a half already and he had nothing. Now, he sat on a plane heading for California.

His mind flashed back to the conversation he'd had with his grandmother just two days ago, after they'd finished the dinner she'd cooked for them.

"Warrick, come sit down, tell Grams what's wrong," she said, patting the sofa next to where she sat.

He looked at her from where he was standing, next to the window. Sighing, he did as she directed, sitting down, legs splayed, head thumping gently against the back of the sofa. "I don't know what to do about Grissom. I've tried everything I can think of to find him. I even tried his mother...although she said she didn't know where he was, I think she does."

Grams huffed a gentle laugh. "You've got it bad for him, don't you?"

"Can't put one past you, can I?"

She grinned at him. "Nope. Nobody knows you better than your Grams," she said. "Why don't you go out and visit Mrs. Grissom. After all, California isn't that far away...and she might be a little more willing to tell you things in person, rather than in an email or on the phone," Grams suggested.

Warrick considered her advice for a few minutes. "You really think that would work?"

"Yep and besides, what could it hurt?"

"I guess you're right," Warrick said, reaching over to hug his grandmother. "Thanks, Grams and I love you."

"I love you, too, Warrick. Of course, if you really loved your Grams, you'd go get a start on those dishes," she hinted broadly, smiling when he grimaced.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint," Warrick grumbled good-naturedly, before going into the kitchen to start the dishes.

Grinning at the memory, Warrick settled in for his flight.

******************

"Gilbert!" Ginny Grissom stomped her foot and spoke aloud, the latter a sign that she was really, really pissed off. She waited as her son turned and face her.

"Warrick's called here twice, looking for you," she signed. "If he didn't care about you why would he be looking for you?"

"Because he feels he has too, that's why!" Gil signed in return. "Please, Mom, don't let him know where I am. I'm going out on the beach. I'll be back later," he finished.

Ginny sighed. "Fine. Go. You're just like your father sometimes...closing yourself off to other people, closing yourself off to life. I give up!" she signed exasperatedly before turning her back on Gil and heading upstairs.

Gil leaned against the doorjamb and sighed. He knew his mother was right, that he closed himself off. He couldn't help it; anytime he let someone get close to him, they left him or disappointed him. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, pushing away from the doorjamb and jogging down to the ocean's edge before turning and running parallel with it.

The rush of the surf and the pounding of one foot after the other on the sand were the sounds he focussed on, keeping his thoughts away from what his mother had said. *The truth* his mind whispered to him. The noise helped keep his thoughts away from Warrick Brown, he couldn't afford to have doubts now, he had to move on; he had to let Warrick move on. It didn't matter that he loved Warrick, the younger man would be better off without Gil Grissom in his life.

**********************  
Warrick paid the cabbie and stood staring at Mrs. Grissom's house. It was a mid-sized, pale blue bungalow; there were small gardens on either side of the winding walkway--she obviously had a green thumb. He knew staring at the house wouldn't bring him any closer to finding Gil, so Warrick forced himself to walk to the front door.

He rang the doorbell and wasn't surprised at not hearing a bell, he knew that Mrs. Grissom would most likely have a light system to alert her to visitors. Warrick waited, impatiently, for her to open the door.

The door opened and Warrick smiled at the woman who stood there. She was quite obviously Gil's mother; the eyes and mouth were similar, as was the shape of the face although the lines and planes of her face were softer than those of her son.

"Mrs. Grissom?" Warrick asked, signing.

"Yes, can I help you?" she replied in kind.

"I sure do hope so. My name is Warrick Brown. I work, well, I used to work with your son, Gil, I was wondering...."

She cut him off. "Please, come in, Mr. Brown," she said, leading him into the leaving room and indicating he should sit. "Would you like coffee or tea?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa as he took one of the arm-chairs.

Warrick smiled. "Call me Warrick, please and I'm fine," he replied. "Look, Mrs. Grissom, I really need to find Gil, it's important. Important to me, at any rate. Do you know where he is?"

Ginny regarded him, her blue eyes the same bright shade as her son's, her look similar to the one Gil would get when he was mulling over evidence. "Why did you learn to sign?"

"We had a case at a college that was for deaf and hearing impaired kids. I didn't know that Gil knew it, and then he told me why. I figured it was something useful to know," he paused, smiling. "Turned out to be quite useful for me, my cousin, Tony, he married a girl who is deaf and I'm able to talk with her. It really helped her to relax having at least one other person in our family she could sign with."

Ginny smiled, nodding. "That's good. Now, why do you want to find my son so badly?"

For a moment, Warrick had the feeling he was being interviewed. Then again, he thought, maybe I am. "I...I need to find him...," Warrick trailed off, his hands dropping to his lap as he considered exactly what he should tell her.

"I know of my son's preferences."

Warrick met Ginny's level gaze and continued, "I need to tell him how I feel. I need to see if he feels anything for me at all, if I even have a chance. Please, Mrs. Grissom, if you know where he is can you tell me?"

"My son has a tendency to push people away after he lets them close; he thinks that doing so will save him heartbreak. You seem more determined than most, so don't let him convince you he doesn't need you. And while I have promised my son that I wouldn't tell anyone, even you, where he is...," she paused for a moment, then smiled. "What I can tell you, is that it's a wonderful day for a walk on the beach," she signed, inclining her head in the direction of the patio doors.

Warrick looked confused for a brief moment, then laughed as he caught on. He stood up and walked over to the doors, his heart swelling when he saw Gil jogging in the direction of the house. Turning, he smiled warmly at Ginny. "Thank you, Mrs. Grissom," he said, then he turned back and opened the door. He stopped when he felt her hand on his arm.

"It's Ginny. And, please, take good care of my son," she said with an almost sad smile.

"I will." Warrick made his way down to the beach, and sat down, waiting for Gil to get closer.

Gil slowed down as he approached the all too familiar figure sitting on the beach outside his mother's house. His heart was pounding and not just from the exertion of his run. When he got to the other man, he simply said, "Warrick."

"Gil," Warrick said, looking up at him. They stared at one another for several minutes until Gil dropped in the sand beside Warrick.

"How did you find me?"

"I called your mother twice, she wouldn't tell me where you were. My Grams suggested I come and visit her, she said that maybe your mother would be more forthcoming if I visited in person," Warrick said.

Gil peered at him. "You don't have to sign for me; I can hear you," he said. "How long have you known ASL?"

"Started taking courses after the case at the deaf college," Warrick shrugged, then smiled. "Didn't even realise I was doing it. I was just up talking to your mom."

"She told you I was down here?"

"No. She just told me it was a really nice day for a walk on the beach," Warrick explained, grinning.

"Leave it to my mother to figure out a way around things," Gil replied, shaking his head.

"Must be where you get it from, huh?"

"Guess so."

There was silence between them, until Warrick, staring ahead at the ocean, asked, "Why didn't you give me a chance? Why did you leave without even trying?"

"I have tried and it hasn't worked, I'm not meant to be with anyone!"

Moving to kneel in front of Gil, Warrick used his fingers to tilt Gil's head up so that their gazes met. "You haven't tried it with me, Gil. Don't give up on me without even giving me a chance. Don't give up on US without giving it a chance, please?" Warrick pleaded.

Gil met his gaze for several long moments, before turning his head to look at the ocean. "I don't want to get hurt. I figured if we did get involved, that you'd smarten up after a month or so and leave me. Then I'd be back where I always end up. Alone." Gil stood up then, turning his back on Warrick and watching the water churn as it hit the shore.

Sighing, Warrick stood behind Gil, wrapping his arms around him. "You know what, Gil? I'm not going to promise you forever because we both know that I can't. But what I will promise you is that if you give me a chance, I'll love you as much as I can for as long as I can and I'm pretty damn stubborn. That means I won't give up on you or us easily, babe. You know it," Warrick paused as Gil turned around to face him but didn't move out of Warrick's embrace. "You've got to stop running sometime, Gil. Cause if you don't, I'll just keep chasing you until you stop or I catch you--wherever you end up," Warrick paused. "I assume you've got another job, where is it?"

"I'm going to be an Assistant Director at the CSI lab in New Orleans," Gil answered quietly.

Warrick considered the information for a moment. "New Orleans, that's cool; it's a great city. But to get us back on track, Gil. If you really don't have any feelings for me and don't want me, then look me in the eyes and tell me that and I'll be gone, out of your life forever if that's what you want."

Gil didn't speak, he just stared at Warrick for several minutes, the only sound that of the waves crashing against the sand. Finally, he whispered, "No, I don't want you out of my life, Warrick. But I don't feel I have the right to ask--"

"I'm giving you that right, Gil. I'm a grown man, capable of making sound, rational decisions."

"So, if I asked you to uproot yourself, your career and go to New Orleans with me?"

"If you'd actually ask me, you'd find out, now wouldn't you?" Warrick challenged, trying not to smile.

Gil laughed. "Okay. Warrick will you uproot yourself and your career to go to New Orleans with me?"

"Yep. I'd pretty much follow you anywhere. Besides, I've got an in with the new boss at the crime lab in New Orleans," Warrick teased, pulling Gil closer.

Gil wrapped his arms around Warrick's neck. "Oh, you do, do you? Think he'd give you a job based on your good looks and sparkling personality?"

"Nah, he'd give me a job because he knows I'm one of the best damn CSIs in the country."

Gil's laughter was stopped rather abruptly when Warrick claimed his mouth for a rather intense, rather passionate kiss. When they finally came up for air, Gil was looking worried again. "I do love you," he whispered, putting a finger to Warrick's lips to keep him silent. "I do want this, us, to work but--I'm not the easiest man to be with and I know you know that still.... Just know that I will try, Warrick it just isn't going to be easy. And I'm sorry I ran away from you, it's just what I'm good at," Gil said, shrugging.

"I already warned you that if you run away from me, I'll just keep chasing you. And I don't expect it to be easy, nothing worth having really is. You're definitely worth having," Warrick said, hugging Gil close to him and relishing the feel of the other man's arms around him.


End file.
